


Shalafi

by Lhiannon27



Category: Dragonlance - Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhiannon27/pseuds/Lhiannon27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She waited decades to face her beloved archmage and do his bidding. But at what cost? With what consequences?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shalafi

I woke slowly having no idea where I was. My head was heavy like I’d been drugged. I tried to sit up but was instantly dizzy and nauseated. The room was lit somehow because I couldn’t tell the source and the light was dim. I was thankful for that. Bright light, with the way I was feeling, would have been torturous. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light I looked around. I was in a room constructed of stone with no windows. There was a door to my left, a small table at the foot of the narrow bed, and someone standing beside me to the right. I was startled but managed to contain it because I knew who I was looking at. I looked straight up into the eyes of Dalamar, the apprentice of Raistlin Majere, archmage of Krynn. 

He spoke a word I didn’t understand and someone joined him. I then found myself looking into the glimmering, hourglass eyes of the Master himself. I’d wanted this for so long. Had dreamed of this so very many times. Where I hadn’t with Dalamar I could feel the power surrounding him simply waiting for his command. I was so overwhelmed with feeling I slipped into unconsciousness.  
When I awoke again I was still in the same room but was alone. My head felt better and sitting up was no longer an impossibility. I noticed a jug and cup on the table and moved to see what was in them. It was only water. I poured some into the cup and emptied it quickly. It was cool and I could taste several minerals though not exactly salty on my tongue sodium and sulfur were most prominent. The renewed moisture in my mouth and throat was pleasantly welcome. I refilled the cup and was sipping slowly when Dalamar appeared in the room once more. I stood up as to not seem weak any longer. Truth was I was fucking terrified, but I was most certainly not letting him have any awareness of that.

“Ah, I see you’re finally awake,” he said while examining my face. 

“And you’re terribly observant,” I retorted. 

His expression changed as I saw anger flash across his eyes. His brows furrowed. His head tiled just slightly and I thought he resembled a cat about to pounce. If he was going to respond at all he thought better of it. He remained silent continuing to stare at me. 

I used his silence to steel my resolve and not relinquish the forceful front I’d managed to use. “So, Dalamar, why is it you’ve come to greet me again and you Master has not?” 

Before he could speak I found myself regretting the question. I felt Him behind me. Once more the power was overwhelming. Standing on an empty hilltop in a lightning storm was a tiny spark in comparison. The spices and roses filled my awareness and I was painfully aware of my heart racing. I swallowed hard, inhaled a deep breath and turned about. Everything ceased to exist but those golden eyes. Eyes that had ensnared me in my youth and I remained trapped within the possibility and now facing them for real they were no less mesmerizing than I’d imagined. I wanted to stay there long enough to discover what was behind them, learn all the secrets and mysteries he knew. I suddenly felt as though I should lower my eyes or kneel or something. I realized it was because he’d totally focused his attention upon me. Here I stood, as I had longed for decades, in front of Raistlin Majere and one gaze my direction had rendered me immobile. 

“I spent many hours locating you,” his raspy, nearly whispered voice began. “Did you think I would not be present at your awakening?” 

I tried to speak. I opened my mouth but I could not form words. Not even a sound escaped my lips. 

“I see my presence has unnerved you. Perhaps I should have waited?” 

His expression said far more than his words. It was a challenge. Was I truly prepared? He sought me out as he had that day in the bookstore when I first found him. Would I falter now before discovering anything? Would I fail in my sheer existence just from standing in front of him? 

“N…nn…no,” I managed to stammer. “This is just - unexpected. Years of dreaming, wanting suddenly realized.”

He only continued looking at me. His scrutiny was almost painful and I could not hold his gaze any longer. It wasn’t because of the supposed oddity of his eyes but the intensity of their focus. My eyes shifted and I found Dalamar doing the same but there was a hint of lust in his eyes. I never felt so pressured or uneasy in my life. 

“Dalimar, did you prepare my study?” Rasitlin asked never moving his eyes from me. 

“Of course, Shalafi,” he replied, lowering his eyes from my face. “Everything is as you asked.” 

“Good.” Raistlin shifted his eyes from me to Dalamar then back again. “Do you have objections to being spellcasted there or do you wish the stairs?” 

“No!” I almost shouted far too eagerly. “None at all.” I giggled remembering Tasslehoff ‘whoosh.’ 

The giggle was expelled from me as I felt this sudden sinking feeling like a steep drop on a roller coaster. Instantly I was in Raistlin’s study. He gestured me to sit in a nearby chair. When I did Dalamar was waiting with a wine goblet he nearly thrust into my hands. I took it but did not drink any. 

“Suspicious?” Dalamar asked, as if hearing an answer he was waiting on. 

“Not at all,” I replied. “I simply do not consume alcohol with any frequency. Even a gentle one as I can ascertain this is has side effects.” 

Raistlin suddenly looked intrigued as he sat in the chair directly across from me. “And what would those be?” 

“I’d rather not discuss it,” I replied then took a small sip. “It’s personal.” 

I watched Raistlin over my cup, and I used it purposefully as a shield. His intrigue seemed to be growing. He hadn’t, apparently, completed his visual examination of me, because he met my gaze several times. 

“I would like to sit and talk with you at great length. And that will happen,” he said as he rose slowly. “However, I have work to complete. Dalamar will see to your needs.” Then he was just – gone.  
Dalamar poured himself some wine then lounged, still cat-like, in the chair Raistlin has occupied. I sipped at mine very slowly attempting to ignore his continued visual probe. 

“When did the Shalafi first contact you?” he asked softly. 

“That would be difficult to explain,” I countered looking into his rich brown eyes. I failed miserably at dousing my desire to run my fingers through his long black hair. Instead I readjusted myself in the chair. 

“Give it a try. Neither of us has a thing to do until he competes the task at hand.” 

“A portrait I have of him spoke to me in a way. He called to me. I knew in that moment I would serve him unconditionally even unto death.” 

I went on to explain there was no magic where I came from. Or if there was it had gone dormant for so long it ceased to respond. That it was only stories and children’s make believe. I always felt there was so much more just out of my reach but unable to release the unyielding want for it. But after learning who he was, what he was Raistlin was an ocean of reality where I’d only wished at cup-fulls.My only ambition to perform a spell at his side, just one single spell and I’d want for nothing more. 

“Must have been difficult then feeling you had the ability but could do nothing,” Dalamar said softly nodding knowingly. “But tell me how did you ever manage to have a portrait of him in your possession?”

I continued looking at that slender, pretty, elf face. How could I explain to him Raistlin’s picture on my books cover was different from all the rest. Would he even grasp that he was actually a character in a rather epically long book series? I was sitting here in a Tower and talking to a man, both of which did not really exist. What did I really have to lose? I put the empty cup on the table next to the jug. When had I emptied it? I was being careful. 

So I recounted my story of meeting Raistlin. Pausing when I needed to translate my reality into this one. I explained I was out shopping doing my best to explain what a mall was. And with all its stores and distractions my only interest was one place. The bookstore. It was quiet, serene, and I was surrounded by the smell of brand new books. I read fantasy. I wrote fantasy. No limitations. As long as the premise is believably, hells sometimes not even that, and the storyteller is damned good at his or her job. So I am wandering about the sci-fi fantasy section when I hear a soft, raspy, almost seductive male voice whisper, "Look at me." I jumped! I looked around...there are people a few aisles away but no one close enough to have said anything to me. I went back to the shelf I was perusing when again, this time urgent, commanding, "Look at ME!" I turn my head toward the voice to the bottom shelf on my right. Dear Gods! My whole body turns and I am on my knees instantly unaware of the action until I realise I am eye to eye with Him. No, I was NOT looking at the lovely brown haired one with the sword and Dragon shield, who I would learn later was my Raistlin’s lifelong tormentor...who I would learn later was the one charming the women. But no not me. I am gazing into the eyes of the white haired one...the one with the staff...the one with the bloodstone...the one with the Power! "Touch ME!" I am actually afraid to. I hesitate to pick this book up in my hands. And I did not want to remove my eyes from his face. I flipped the book over to the back to read synopsis, and only then discovered there were tears falling. 

As I finished my telling Dalamar rose to fill my cup again but I stopped him. I limited my alcohol consumption because doing so activated my libido to dangerous proportions. Having read about him I knew Dalamar was alluring but having him actually before me and so very close that I could feel his warmth and smell the intriguing miasma of spell components upon him was more intoxicating than the beverage. Of course he noticed I was staring at him but I brushed any possibility of response aside. Distracted in thought he refilled the cup anyway. 

“What time of day is it?” It seemed a ridiculous question but I truly had no idea and in this tower how could one tell? Since it had soothed my nerves I allowed myself an additional sip of wine. Was it sweeter? I took another sip for comparison. It definitely tasted better. 

“Full dark was about an hour before you woke, why?” 

“I was simply curious. No way to discern is there?” One more sip. Yes, this was simply delicious. 

Dalamar made a noncommittal hmmph sort of noise. “Do you know why the Shalafi brought you here?”

“Not at all. Do you?” I tilted my head back and drained the remaining contents. 

He shook his head but even that tiny movement sent his hair rippling in small waves. My hand wanted to touch it but all I did was put the cup down next to the very elegant metal clad glass carafe. I hadn’t noticed how beautiful it was before. A not quite filigree style pattern that the glass had been blown into. The firelight shifted as if dancing within. Abruptly there was a weight on my head and realized long thin fingers were stroking my hair. I relaxed completely and an unexpected soft moan escaped my lips. 

“Like that?” he whispered. 

“Yes,” I hissed. My reaction surprised me but even though the wildfire of want my heart still spoke true. “What about Raistlin?” I asked. The conviction I’d wanted to call upon missing from my tone. 

“He’ll be in the laboratory all night. Besides, what is it to him?” Dalamar gently took my hands in his and pulled me to my feet. He drew me close, lowered his head and kissed me. It was a deep kiss, urgent, screaming of his own concupiscence. His was a practices mouth. Mine was as well and I returned his kiss fully. He pulled back to look at me somewhat questioningly. 

“Do I look like a child to you, Dalamar? I could do things to you that probably no woman ever has. I know full well what your body wants,” I said and let my had slide from his chest to his waist. I kept going. Even under his robes I could feel him, hard, wanting. I stroked him gently over the fabric as I raised myself on my toes to continue the kiss. 

“No not here,” he stated, removing my hand. His eyes seemed troubled but still so full of desire. He wrapped an arm around my waist and spoke the words I assumed would transport us to his chamber.

I barely blinked, and yes we were in his rooms. I kept my hand upon him as I looked around. I smiled when I took in the bed. He moved my hair and kissed the back of my neck. I shuddered. I turned around and we moved to kiss at almost the same moment. I was panting and crazed with want fumbling to get the robes off him. “Here,” he said grabbing my hand and putting it on his back. There was a strange closure there I’d not noticed at all. After I’d undone it he pulled the garment off and left it in a heap on the floor. I was in a very plain, what seemed like muslin, sort of chemise. It came off much more easily. He began kissing me all over, all the while guiding us both toward his bed. He lay me down moved on me and was about to enter me when a horrifying sensation slammed into me. 

“I can’t!” I screamed and pushed him away. I scrambled off the bed and struggled to redress myself. 

He stood and stalked to me. Total feral feline. He grabbed my shoulders firmly. “What is wrong?” he demanded. 

“Can you not feel it? Feel him? He’s watching me!” I paused and saw genuine distress in his eyes. “What did you do to me?!” I yelled. “What was in the wine Dalamar?!” 

I pushed past him and bolted out the door. I had no idea where I was going but I didn’t stop until I reached the end of the corridor. I sank to the floor. Wrapping my arms around my knees I started crying doing my best to muffle the sound. What had happened? What had Dalimar done to the wine? One would have to be a fool to not find Dalamar attractive and his elven allure just enhanced it but I’d have never acted upon it. Never done what I almost did. The day in the bookstore when, and now I knew it was Rasitlin’s voice, I’d fallen to my knees. I knew, not only that I would be loyal to him, but that I loved him. Nothing about him, not his history, not what had happened in the Tower during his Test, disgusted or offended me in any way. I understood him. And I loved him. I closed my eyes and found myself crying harder.


End file.
